


Hermann's Delivery Service

by Macremae



Category: Majo no Takkyuubin | Kiki's Delivery Service, Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Kid Fic, Kiki's Delivery Service AU, M/M, Witchcraft, Witches, also i've never actually seen kiki but oh well, because i don't know how planes work, everyone lives in germany now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 15:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14452083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: Newt meets a witch, makes a delivery, and learns to fly. In about that order.





	Hermann's Delivery Service

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really quick to fix my writer's block for Facing Into a New Night, and also because koshigaeru's art is just adorable.

The day a strange little boy falls from the sky, Newt Geiszler is hunting for magic.

More specifically, he’s looking for _Moosleute_ , moss folk that live in the woods around his uncle’s cabin, just outside of Kochel. There, the trees grow thick and tall, letting in streams of sunlight that reach down to make pools of butter-yellow on the forest floor. Leafy ferns make a lush carpet for Newt to bound across, the shoelaces of his sneakers double-knotted against any of the _Moosleute’s_ tricks. His knees are covered in bandaids from the day before, where he attempted to crawl around on the riverbank and comb the sharp pebbles for a hidden pirate trapdoor.

Uncle Illia’s cabin is a magical place, surrounded by deep, cool forest and a winding river that teems with fish. It rains mostly in the winter, but the summers are warm and bright, and there is every kind of adventure to be found among the trees and meadows.

Newt really, really wants to have an adventure.

He’s digging through his backpack for the sandwich his father packed him, when he hears it: a sharp, “Ah!”, and the thump of something large hitting the ground. Newt looks around curiously, wondering what on Earth could have made that sound. The trees betray nothing, simply rustling their leaves in the strong breeze. 

Then, Newt sees something huddled in the grass ahead. It looks to be a human, judging by the shape, but a spark of hope ignites in Newt’s heart. A _Moosleute_!

He rushes forward, hoisting his backpack on his shoulder and shouting, “Hey!”

There’s a boy lying in the grass. He looks about Newt’s age, with smooth brown hair and long eyelashes, and a sharp nose that juts out from his face like a butter knife. He’s wearing a sweater over a collared shirt, and a pair of smart brown slacks with perfect creases ironed in the legs. Lying next to him is a brown leather satchel, and lying next to that is a cane.

Newt leans over him. “Hey,” he says excitedly, “are you okay?”

The boy’s eyes flutter open, and he groans. “Bloody hell,” he mumbles, shutting his eyes tight against the sunlight. “What happened?”

Newt gasps. “You said h-e-double hockey sticks! That’s a curse word!”

The boy sits up and rubs his head. “No it isn’t,” he says curtly, “it’s a perfectly fine word.”

“Did you fall from the sky?” Newt asks, taking in the boy’s disheveled appearance. “Are you an angel?”

“No,” he replies, “I fell from my broom. It’s a bit windy today, if you haven’t noticed.”

Newt gasps, his eyes growing wide. “You’re a witch! You fell from your broom!”

The boy squints up at him. “I just said that.”

Crouching down next to him, Newt smiles. “I’m Newton Geiszler, but you can call me Newt. I’ve never met a witch before! That’s so cool! What’s your name? Where did you come from? Can you cast any spells?”

Looking a bit overwhelmed by the questions, the boy blinks. “I. Er. My name is Hermann. I live in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, and yes, I can cast a few spells. That’s how my broom flies.”

“That’s so cool!” Newt says again. He stands and holds out his hand, which Hermann takes, and grabs his cane from the grass, along with his satchel. Newt suddenly notices that he’s wearing long pants during the summer. “Why do you need a cane?” he asks.

Hermann frowns. “I have a bad leg. I need it to walk.”

In an act of simple childish acceptance, Newt nods. “Oh. Okay. Hey, where’s your broom?”

Hermann’s eyes widen, and he looks around. “ _Oh naa_!” he exclaims, eyes scanning the forest floor. “It must have fallen somewhere else.”

“I can help you look!” says Newt, eager to help (and learn more about witchcraft). Hermann wrinkles his nose.

 

“I don’t need any help. I can find it on my own.”

“That’s silly. Two people find something faster than one!”

With that, Newt begins to walk around, peering into bushes and pushing aside plants to look for Hermann’s broom. Over his shoulder, he yells, “What does it look like?”

He can hear Hermann give a sigh of resignation. “It’s brown, with straw at the bottom. Just like any other broom.”

“Except it can fly!” adds Newt, still amazed at the concept of magic. Hermann sighs again. 

“Yes, Newton. It can fly.”

Newt leaps over a bundle of tree roots, splashes through a small creek, and there it is: lying in a mulberry bush is a small broom. “Hey Hermann!” he calls, “I found it!”

Hermann picks his way over the roots, and Newt dashes back to help him over the creek. His face lights up when he sees the broom. “You did!” he says happily, and hugs it to his chest. Realizing Newt can still see him, he blushes. “Er. Thank you.”

Newt beams. “No problem!” He looks closer at it. “So what were you doing before you fell?”

Hermann looks more than a little proud. “I’m a delivery boy. People call my mother and ask her for things that she bakes, and then I deliver them.”

He starts walking, and Newt falls into step beside him. “What kinda things does she make?”

“Bread, mostly, but also strudel and _krapfen_ , and sometimes pancakes and cream puffs.” He puffs out his chest. “She’s the best baker in all of Germany. Maybe even the world.”

“The whole world?”

Hermann nods. “Mmhm. And I deliver them.”

Newt looks at the broom, then Hermann. “Can I come?” he asks hopefully. Hermann’s brow furrows.

“I don’t know. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger. We’re friends! I found your broom! Besides, my dad says that other kids aren’t strangers, as long as they’re nice.”

Hermann nods thoughtfully. “You did find my broom. And I suppose you couldn’t hurt me, even if you wanted to. You’re like a chipmunk.”

“Yeah!” says Newt excitedly. “I’m a chipmunk! So can I come? Please?”

Hermann shrugs his shoulders. “Okay. But you have to hold on very tight, and help me with my deliveries.”

Newt shakes his head up and down so hard he feels his skull rattle. “Okay! I promise.”

They reach a clearing in the woods, and Hermann sets his broom on the ground. He wraps his cane around his broom with a bike lock, and loops his satchel over the back. Then, he holds out his hand.

The broom rises a few feet in the air, and Newt gasps. He’s never seen magic before, and even this small display is amazing. Hermann straddles the broom, and motions with his hand. “Get on behind me, and hold on with your arms.”

Newt does as he says, his feet brushing the ground. It’s sort of like his bike, but way cooler. He nods at Hermann, who grabs onto the handle and makes a clicking noise with his mouth.

The broom springs forward, skimming across the grass. Hermann pulls up on the handle, and they go shooting into the bright summer sky like a rocket. Newt lets out an excited yell, feeling the wind rush through his hair. He’s flying! He’s actually flying!

They soar over the forest towards the nearest town, surrounded by blue. The green trees go rushing by beneath them like a river of leaves, the cool breeze making Newt’s t-shirt ripple and puff. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the sun beats down like a warm blanket on their faces. Newt looks all around, drinking in what he sees. The world is amazing from up here.

Down below, the forest gives way as town comes into view. It’s thatched roofs look like little dollhouses underneath them, and the people are ants and spiders scurrying about. Everything is bright and clear, colors popping below.

Hermann touches down just outside a cottage with a red front door. He clambers off the broom and unlocks his cane, leading Newt up to the door.

“Holy moly,” says Newt breathlessly, “that was amazing! You get to do that whenever you want?”

“Well,” Hermann replies, ringing the doorbell, “My bedtime is eight o’clock, but other than that, yes.”

The door is opened by a tall man in a starched white shirt and tie. A little girl peeks out from behind his legs, her dress matching the door perfectly. When she sees Hermann, she smiles.

“Hermann!” she shouts, and runs forward to hug him. Hermann laughs and reaches into his satchel, pulling out a small packaged wrapped in brown paper.

“Mother sent this for you, Mako,” he says. He pulls out another package, this one much bigger and tied off with a string. Hermann hands it to the tall man, saying, “And this is for you, sir.”

The man nods. “Thank you, Hermann. Send our regards.” He notices Newt and raises an eyebrow. “And who’s your friend?”

Newt beams up at him. “I’m Newt! I found Hermann’s broom, so I get to help him with deliveries.”

The man gives what looks to be a rare smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Newt.”

Mako gives him a wave from where she’s clutching Hermann’s legs. “O ai dekite kōeidesu, Newt-shi!”

“In German, Mako,” says the man gently. Mako nods.

“It is nice to meet you. Thank you for giving Hermann his cane.”

Hermann gives her an affectionate pat on the head, and she scurries back into the house. “I’m afraid we must be going, I’ve got a few more deliveries to make,” he says. Newt bounds down the steps and waves.

“Nice to meet you, sir! Your kid is really nice!”

The man smiles and helps Hermann down the front steps, then goes back inside. Newt leaps onto the broom again. “C’mon,” he says, “you said you’ve got more deliveries to do!”

They visit several more people that afternoon: two boys named Raleigh and Yancy with matching shocks of blonde hair, Ms. Lightcap, who runs a repair shop that smells like oil and smoke, a frightening man with gold teeth and glasses he never takes off, and an old couple surrounded by dogs and farmland. Each time, Newt can’t wait to get back on the broom. Flying is like the best rollercoaster in the world, but with prettier scenery.

At the end of the day, they sit and watch the sunset at the lake near Uncle Illia’s cabin. Newt sprawls out on the grass and grins.

“Today has been awesome,” he says contentedly. Hermann smiles back.

“You’re much nicer than I thought, Newton. Being your friend is very…” he looks for the right word, “thrilling.”

“Hey, Godzilla is thrilling! I love that word!”

“What on Earth is a “Godzilla”?”

Newt gasps. “You don’t know who Godzilla is?” He grabs Hermann’s hand “You _have_ to come over to my house sometime and watch it!”

Hermann blushes. “You- you want to see me again?”

“Of course! You’re the coolest person _ever_ ,” says Newt with conviction. “And my dad and Uncle Illia are pretty cool.”

Hermann looks like someone just told him summer would last forever. He beams, then quickly leans over and gives Newt a tiny kiss on the cheek, fiery red in the face.

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Then, he gets to his feet and grabs his broom. Before pushing off, he turns to Newt again and says, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Newt rubs at his cheek and gives Hermann a thumbs up. “Yeah! Totally!”

Hermann contorts his hand into a poor imitation of Newt’s gesture, then flies off into the sunwashed sky. Newt watches him go, zipping over the treetops and back towards the ski resort a few miles away. He waves until Hermann is long out of sight.

Then, his Uncle comes down to the lake’s edge, and helps him up, and brings him home for dinner.


End file.
